


Among the Wildflowers

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Clothed Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Missionary Position, Outdoor Sex, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:35:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29751435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Cullen and Lydia decide to visit Honnleath during the spring season, enjoying a lakeside picnic and some afternoon delights underneath the Bloomingtide sun and among Fereldan wildflowers. (Written in Cullen's POV)
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5
Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition





	Among the Wildflowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AParisianShakespearean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AParisianShakespearean/gifts).



> Dear Shakes, I wrote this as a surprise treat for your Lydia and Cullen! Please enjoy! xoxo

The skies were pale blue, fluffy white clouds dotting the warm afternoon skies with the appearance of the painted-on brushstrokes of a master artist. The sun resided overhead, leaving my skin peppered with heat. Maker, I didn’t think it would be such a warm afternoon out when deciding to go out to the lake. Mia did warn us that today might be more ideal for swimming than simply lazing around the tall grass and patch of wildflowers. 

The gentle chimes of laughter beside me coax me out of my silence, prompting my eyes to wander to the woman sitting on the other end of the threadbare blanket my mother used to spend her evenings by the fire, hemming until her fingers ached. My muse sits with her legs sprawled out into the grass, skin radiantly glowing under the sunlight’s playful kiss. Her dark hair, piled atop her head using an ornate comb she received as a gift from some Antivan diplomat, bounced with her smooth movements as she leaned forward to steal another cherry tart. They were freshly made this morning by Mia while I supervised the process. 

Everyone and their mother know I can’t cook to save my life. 

I lean forward, pressing my lips to her bare shoulder. She shifted slightly when my stubble catches against her bare skin and when my hand finds a home on her thigh above the soft fabric of her emerald green skirt. 

“What’s going on in that mind of yours, Cullen?” Lydia asked, turning her head toward me and flashing me the necklace she made of my lucky coin. Our eyes met, and I press my forehead against hers, occupying her space. She didn’t seem to mind, though, especially when I brushed a chaste kiss to the bridge of her nose. 

“Nothing. Just admiring your beauty,” I say, hoping to steal her attention away from the sweet allure of cherry tarts and the lake’s surface sparkling under the sunlight. Sure, I know the lake is beautiful, but an inherently selfish part of me wishes to have her all to myself. I whisper, “How can I help it?” 

“Mmm, a fair point-” Lydia cooed softly, biting back a laugh. As I lay in her grasp, her gentle perfume tickled the senses. She smells sweet, but I am more concerned with how she tastes. Almost sensing my anticipation, Lydia opens her face to me, and I sweep her lips into a kiss. It’s distracting, meant to be that way. She tastes of tart cherries and sugar, their tongues twining together as we search for solace only found in the physical comforts of the other. 

My arms curled around her and lay her toward the ground, her back brushing into my mother’s threadbare blanket. She stared up at me through thick lashes when my lips parted from hers, the hot touch of breath bridging the space between her and me. We were connected, always. 

“Cullen,” Lydia whispered my name like a prayer, cupping my face with cool fingers. I stare down at her, using my body as a shield between her and the sun. She smiled up at me and glanced to the sides. We set up our picnic several feet off the road. Still, the likelihood of any travelers coming toward town and disturbing our quiet indulgence of Honnleath’s natural beauty seemed unlikely. She let out a shuddering breath, “Make love to me. Here.” 

She didn’t need to ask of me twice. I reach my hand into her skirt, feeling her lacy smalls with the ghost of a smile tugging at my lips, and push them to the side for my fingers to explore. The breathless gasps and moans that Lydia made when I swirl a finger around her clit threatened to drive me mad. 

I retake her lips while I pull her smalls down her legs to be out of the way. My busy hands push her skirt further up into a puddle of fabric around her hips, not wasting any time before I fumble with my pesky trousers. 

The rustling of clothes blindly took longer, with my attention focused on lavishing Lydia with affection, but I don’t regret it. Hardened cock in hand, I settled between my muse’s legs and lined up- prepared to breach her. I wait, she nodded, and I push between her legs with a forceful thrust of my hips until I bottomed out inside of her. Her walls gripped me tight, unwilling to let me go. 

“Cullen!” Lydia’s voice echoed into the air, bolstered from the throes of her passion. Her nails sank into my back, holding me close to her. Under the late afternoon sun, I make love to my beloved, my muse of fire. We clung to each other, a tangled mess of limbs, sweat, and moaning among the tall grass and Fereldan wildflowers. Her delicate cries were music to my ears, evoking the visage of a siren beckoning a sailor to their most pleasurable demise. 

But I was safe in Lydia’s arms, and she was in mine. 

I paid no attention to the passage of time around us from the sun's movement getting lower in the sky or how the blue started to darken, consumed by thoughts of Lydia. Our lips were together far more than they were apart, silencing our tandem moans to be secrets shared. My thrusts were not purely gentle but never intended to hurt. Lydia didn’t mind the slight edge to how my cock filled her hilt deep before nearly pulling out or the minute slap of my hips against the delectable curve of her rear. 

Maker, she was a sight for sore eyes.

I made sure that she came first, unraveling before my eyes in a soft whine. Only then did I let myself finish inside of her, filling her up with my seed. Our chests heaved as I managed to lay myself down, rolling us over so that it was she who was on top. Chests pressed together as Lydia and I shared one last heated kiss, lost in the wildflowers.


End file.
